


Hetalia Poems

by AsianTapWater



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsianTapWater/pseuds/AsianTapWater
Summary: Poems I've written about Hetalia characters, different events in history, and my AU.((Poems are organised by character and AU))





	1. Table of Contents, I Guess?

###  Table Of Contents 

####  Canada 

Chapter 2: Who Am I?

Chapter 3: A Ghost Named Canada

####  America 

Chapter 4: Not A Hero

Chapter 5: I'm Sorry, My Son

Chapter 6: My Country, 'Tis Of Thee

####  China 

Chapter 7: What Happened, Aru?

####  Japan 

Chapter 8: An Apology

Chapter 14: If The War Is Truly Over (part of my AU, 'Isolated')

####  Germany 

Chapter 9: Traitor

Chapter 10: Pride and Pain

Chapter 11: Lieber Italien

Chapter 14: If The War Is Truly Over (part of my AU, 'Isolated')

####  North Italy 

Chapter 12: Letter To An Old Friend (part of my AU, 'Isolated')

Chapter 14: If The War Is Truly Over (part of my AU, 'Isolated')

####  Prussia 

Chapter 13: Lebewohl, Mein Kleiner Bruder (part of my AU, 'Isolated')


	2. {Canada} Who Am I?

### Who Am I?

Who am I?  
I’m Canada, your owner.  
It’s ok if you don’t remember.  
You never do.

Who’s the sixth Ally?  
It’s me, your brother.  
It’s ok if you don’t notice.  
You never do.

If I’m not America, then who am I?  
I’m Canada, his twin.  
It’s ok if you didn’t realise.  
Nobody ever does.

What was I saying?  
Why don’t you ever listen to me?  
I’m sick of this, brother.  
I’m sick of being ignored.

I may have burned down Washington,  
But that will never hurt as much  
As the pain in my heart.  
The pain you gave me.

I’m invisible.  
Nonexistent.  
I’m never here  
Even when I am.

Who am I?  
I’m Canada, your twin!  
I’m sick of this, America.  
I’m sick of being forgotten.


	3. {Canada} A Ghost Named Canada

### A Ghost Named Canada

"Good morning!"  
You shout, not to anyone in particular,  
As you leap out of your bed.

You greet Tony,  
And the whale,  
And even Kumakichi,  
But never me.

You turn up the radio,  
And dance to Party In The USA  
As you stick some bagels in the toaster.  
One for yourself,  
Another for Tony (even though he screams "B*tch motherf*cker sh*t!"),  
But none for me.  
You don't even look at me.

It's like I'm a ghost,  
Like I'm not even here.  
Or maybe I am,  
But I'm just invisible.

We head off to the world meeting,  
Which is in a building barely 5 minutes away  
From your mansion in Washington DC.

When we get there, Cuba pulls me aside  
And screams at me for things you've done.  
He's loud, other nations gather around us,  
Some even try to pull Cuba away from me,  
But you don't do anything.  
You don't even notice.  
You just stare at Greece,  
Who apparently brought 55 cats with him.

It's like we're all ghosts,  
Like we're not even here.

Or maybe I truly am a ghost.  
Just a lonely spirit and country,  
Slowly fading away until nothing is left.

Perhaps that's why nobody notices me,  
Or remembers who I am.  
Why you all freak out  
When you realise I'm in the same room.

Maybe I truly am a ghost.  
Just a lonely ghost named Canada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greece bringing 55 cats is a little reference to a cat sanctuary on the Greek island of Syros (the sanctuary is called God's Little People Cat Rescue), and also I imagine Greece would totally do that at some point considering how much he loves his cats.


	4. {America} Not A Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poem about the American Revolutionary War. Not entirely based on the scene from the anime.

### Not A Hero

A hero is never sad.  
A hero shouldn’t be sad.  
So why?  
Why do I feel like this?

A hero doesn’t cry.  
A hero mustn’t cry.  
So what is this?  
What are these tears  
Running down my face?

A hero must be happy.  
A hero shouldn’t not be happy.  
And yet  
I don’t remember  
What that feels like.

What is this?  
WHAT IS THIS?  
Why can’t I feel?  
WHY AM I CRYING?

His face  
Staring across the battlefield.  
The sad smile.  
The emerald eyes  
That spoke a million unknown words.

I’m sorry.  
I’m so sorry.

I aim.  
And pull the trigger.


	5. {America} I'm Sorry, My Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poem about 9/11. The 'son' is New York because the idea of America having 50 kids is great. I'll probably write poems about those kids later on.
> 
> Warning: Bit of gore, I guess? And possibly death.

### I'm Sorry, My Son

I’m sorry, my son.  
I should’ve been more careful.

I’m sorry, my son.  
I could’ve stopped your pain.

I woke up,  
And you were screaming.  
Yet there was nothing I could do.

The towers fell,  
Your ribs shattered.

The buildings burned,  
Your skin was set aflame.

You were dying,  
And I watched you.

You begged for help,  
And I only listened.

I’m sorry, my son.  
I should’ve been a better father.


	6. {America} My Country, 'Tis Of Thee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's a sort of songfic/poem (songpoem??). Song used is "My Country, 'Tis Of Thee", for those who don't know (I won't assume everyone knows all USA songs). Various time periods mentioned. Not every part is completely based on the lyrics.

### My Country, 'Tis Of Thee

_My country, ‘tis of thee,_

A young child stood in the vast meadow,  
Watching a herd of bison grazing in the distance.

_Sweet land of liberty,_

From the forest behind him,  
He heard the sweet tweets and chirrups of birdsong.

_Of thee I sing;_

He didn’t know who he was,  
Or why he existed.  
He just knew he had a purpose.

_Land where my fathers died,_

With every bang,  
Another man fell.  
With every bang,  
He lost a part of himself.

_Land of the pilgrims’ pride,_

He smiled and picked up the cup,  
Before noisily slurping up the tea,  
Making the older man across the table chuckle.

_From ev’ry mountainside,_

From the top of the hill,  
He could see the ships retreating into the distance.  
The British had finally left, hopefully for good.

_Let freedom ring!_

He felt pride swelling in his chest  
As his men cheered below him.  
They were gone.  
He was finally independent.  
He was no longer a colony under someone else’s rule.

Finally, he was a country.


	7. {China} What Happened, Aru?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APH!China poem, about the invasion of Manchuria.
> 
> Warning: gore + death

### What Happened, Aru?

2500 years ago,  
In a forest far from home,  
I found you, aru.  
A tiny child, surrounded by towering green bamboo.

I helped you,  
I raised you,  
Even though you lived far away.  
Two brothers  
In two countries.

2000 years later,  
And you invade my land.  
My men are dying,  
But I can't do anything.

You smile  
As you watch us suffering before you.  
You cheer  
As you watch the crimson puddles become a lake.

What happened, aru?  
What happened to that child?  
What happened to us?  
Are you even my brother, aru?

You were kind.  
You were a good man.  
You cared about me.  
Once.

What happened, aru?  
What caused this rage?  
What have my men done  
To deserve this punishment?

Come back, aru.  
Save yourself from this demon.  
This isn’t you,  
I know it isn’t.

Please, aru,  
Don’t do this.

You can kill all my men,  
But, please,  
Spare me.

…

I still love you, aru.


	8. {Japan} An Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A response to my previous poem.

### An Apology

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

Please forgive me.  
Or at least, pretend to.  
I know you really won’t.

They’re dead.  
They’re all dead.  
And it’s all my fault.

Why didn’t I stop him?  
Why couldn’t I save them?

You hate me, don’t you?  
Surely you do.  
He made me a murderer.  
We slaughtered your men.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

Please pretend you forgive me.  
Please pretend you still love me.

I’m sorry, dear brother.

I love you too.


	9. {Germany} Traitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poem about the Nazi Regime and the Holocaust
> 
> Warnings:  
> Mentions of the Nazi Regime, Hitler, Auschwitz, and the Holocaust

### Traitor

The nightmares,  
They never stop.  
I cry and beg,  
Praying for them to leave,  
Yet they keep coming back.

The screams,  
They never stop.  
Screams of pain,  
Screams of hatred,  
Memories I tried to suppress.

The bodies kept falling.  
The numbers kept rising.  
The rose, ever so slowly,  
Lost its snow-white petals.

I remember the day  
The order was given.  
I remember the day  
The first law was passed.

Their rights, day by day,  
Were stripped from their souls.  
Knives slicing through them  
As if cutting chunks of meat.

Those people, like me,  
Cried out and begged in protest.  
They were innocent,  
We all knew,  
Yet the tyrant wouldn’t listen.

One by one, they disappeared.  
Taken from their homes,  
And sent to camps of death.  
Children wailed,  
Mothers pleaded,  
And yet I didn’t move.

They died, all of them,  
in those hellish night-dark camps.  
Burned and whipped and starved  
‘Till they were lifeless bags of bones.

Still, I didn’t move.  
Still, I followed his orders.

I remember one day,  
When I walked around Auschwitz,  
Wearing my SS uniform.  
The prisoners recognised me.  
As soon as I looked at them,  
I saw the hatred burning bright.

“Traitor!” They shouted.  
“How could you?” They cried.  
“We were your citizens!”

As they shouted,  
My chest felt  
Like it was about to explode.  
I tried to hold the tears in,  
But a few still ran down my cheeks.

These were my people.  
Or at least, they used to be.  
And I betrayed them.  
I didn’t speak soon enough.  
And this was what my choice had led to.

Sometimes, even now,  
I still look back  
At that memory,  
Wishing I could’ve said sorry.

But yet I know  
They would never accept  
An apology from someone like me.

They’d seen too much,  
Felt too much,  
Suffered too much,  
To accept an apology  
From a traitor who once protected them.


	10. {Germany} Pride and Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poem about WW2 and the aftermath of it.
> 
> Warnings:  
> Mentions of the Nazi Regime, Hitler, Auschwitz, and the Holocaust  
> Death

### Pride and Pain

The flag of a once proud nation,  
And the flag of a once proud dictatorship,  
Both signs of a war that should never have occurred.

The cold brick walls, and the black metal gate.  
Like the open arms of Death,  
Welcoming the unfortunate fodder.

Their screams still echo in my head,  
The pain still stabbing at  
My writhing, wailing heart.

Why? WHY?  
I find myself screaming  
At the man who never listens.

Why them? Why US?  
What did they ever do  
To be murdered and burned alive?

The flag of a once proud nation,  
And the flag of a now dead man,  
Both signs of a law that should never have been made.

Bright crimson eyes, snow white hair.  
A fluttering yellow bird,  
Almost as crazy as him.

Their words still echo in my head.  
“The Prussian State which from early days has been a bearer  
Of militarism and reaction in Germany has de facto ceased to exist.”

Why? WHY?  
I find myself screaming  
At the men who never cared.

Why him? Why US?  
What did he ever do  
To be murdered without reason?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should stop writing about the holocaust and WW2 and start researching other German history.
> 
> Verse 2 talks about Auschwitz
> 
> "The man who never listens" is Hitler
> 
> "The men who never cared" are the Allied nations
> 
> “The Prussian State which from early days has been a bearer of militarism and reaction in Germany has de facto ceased to exist." is the first line of Law No. 46.


	11. {Germany} Lieber Italien

Sometimes, I'm annoyed at you.  
Sometimes, I'm disappointed in you.  
And sometimes...  
I adore you.

I don't know what it is about you.  
Your seemingly undying loyalty?  
The flowers on Valentinstag?  
Or... something else?

You haven't changed at all,  
Grandson of Rome.  
You were timid and weak back then,  
And even now still.

You were never a good soldier,  
But that has never mattered.  
For you will always be  
My dear Hetalia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lieber Italien: German for "Dear Italy"
> 
> Valentinstag: German for "Valentine's Day"


	12. {North Italy | Isolated AU} Letter To An Old Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A North Italy poem+story for my Hetalia AU, Isolated. In the AU, the three main Axis countries are separated and forced to cut all forms of contact. Prussia dies, and Gilbird lives with Germany.

### Letter To An Old Friend

I still remember that day. The pain in his eyes as my boss dragged me away. The way he lifted his arm, as if he wanted to grab me and bring me back to him, but never doing it. The looks of scorn and disappointment in everyone's eyes as they watched us be separated. The small smile on that American man's face as he realises that he, the 'hero', has once more 'saved the day'.

I sigh as I slowly close the bedroom door. It has been a whole year. Why am I still thinking about him?  
I spot a piece of paper and a quill laying in a jar of ink on my desk. Maybe I should write him a letter. But would he read it? Will he even receive it? I might as well try.

**8/5/1946**

Dear Germany,

 _Ciao_! It's been a while, hasn't it?  
How are you? Do you need help paying off debts?  
I'm getting very lonely here.  
Even my _Fratello_ is avoiding me.

A lot has happened since the war ended.  
I have a new anti-fascist government.  
People started going around killing fascists.  
It was really scary, but my boss said it was the right thing to do.  
I know they were bad, but I don't like watching people die!

I hope you're ok.  
Austria said you were feeling sick after your mean boss died.  
But you didn't really look so good before that, either...

Anyways!  
Do you want pasta?  
I know it isn't your favourite  
But I want to do something for your birthday.

We are still friends, right?

Please reply,  
Italy Veneziano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For you Americans, the date is 5/8/1946


	13. {Prussia | Isolated AU} Lebewohl, Mein Kleiner Bruder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A poem about Law No. 46. For my Isolated AU (Read the note on the North Italy poem for info).
> 
> {{ Front page pick on AllPoetry.com }}

### Lebewohl, Mein Kleiner Bruder

I suppose this is it, mein Kleiner Bruder.  
My time has finally come to an end.

After this war,  
I will be no more.  
Our countries will merge,  
Just like they did  
When Vater still existed.

I suppose this is it, mein Kleiner Bruder.  
It is time for me to join Vater in Himmel.

Who knows, perhaps one day  
You shall raise un kind  
Just as awesome as me.

Heh, I doubt it.  
Nobody can be  
As awesome as me.  
Not even after  
I leave this world.

Bruder, promise me  
After I die,  
That you will take care of Berlin,  
And carry on  
My legacy.

Perhaps you will go on  
To build a great empire,  
Just like Vater did.

If you do,  
Promise me you won’t kill another 11 million people.

I suppose this is it, mein Kleiner Bruder.  
My time has finally come to an end.

_Lebewohl, mein Kleiner Bruder,_  
_Ich werde dich vermissen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8/3/20  
> i am not a nazi. i do not make/want to make jokes about the holocaust. i know how serious this event was and i know it is nothing to make fun of. i am not an asshole, even if prussia may have been in this poem in regards to it. do not accuse me of trying to poke fun at the holocaust. thank you.


	14. {North Italy, Germany, Japan | Isolated AU} If The War Is Truly Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An Axis Powers poem about the aftermath of WW2, from my Hetalia AU 'Isolated'.
> 
> Black Eagle-- Germany  
> What Never Was-- Italy  
> Cherry Blossoms Stained Red-- Japan

I. Black Eagle

A casket.  
Simple. Brown.  
Made with the wood of an oak tree.  
And covered by the flag of a once proud nation.

Within that box  
Lay the remains  
Of the one he called his brother.

The one who, despite everything, was always there for him.  
The one who, despite everything, followed him through it all.  
The one who, despite everything, was loyal till the end.

And now that man was gone.

No longer would he wake up  
To that cheery pale face and those crimson eyes.

No longer would he live  
Knowing he still had family.

If the war is truly over...  
Why was he still hurt?

\- - - - -

II. What Never Was

Those stern,  
Blue eyes.  
Shallow, yet so deep one would get lost in them.

The still, cold frown,  
Begging  
To be turned into a warm smile.

The face he had wished,  
So many times,  
To see again, if only for a moment.

All sorrow, all grief,  
It all evaporated  
As he ran into the arms of his lover.

Then he woke up.  
The ring on his finger  
Now a painful reminder of what never was.

If the war is truly over...  
Why was he still hurt?

\- - - - -

III. Cherry Blossoms Stained Red

Scattered petals  
Of cherry blossoms,  
Painting the land fuchsia.

He’s felt this before.  
Loneliness. Abandonment.  
So why was it different this time?

The commanding shouts of the German.  
The boyish charm and playfulness of the Italian.  
And the silent whispers of birds in his empty garden.

If the war is truly over...  
Why was he still hurt?

\- - - - -

My only brother, dead.  
My family, gone.

My heart, once full of unexplainable emotion,  
Now empty, torn, his memory slowly fading.

The pain of abandonment.  
The same, yet worse than before.

If the war is truly over...  
Why are we still hurt?


End file.
